The Talk
by R First Gamble
Summary: When Jughead gets a text from Betty saying that they need to talk, he automatically assumes the worst. Takes place towards the end of season one. One-shot.


**Author's Note:** Hi guys! This is my first fanfic in a really long time, and my first in the Riverdale fandom. This idea just popped into my head after the miserable episode that aired last night. I guess this is slightly AU in the sense that it doesn't fit perfectly into the show's timeline, but it would be between solving Jason's murder and the end of the season 1 finale. Also, I hope I have it rated correctly; like I said, it has been a while. Please let me know what you think! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Riverdale, or any of its characters.

"Damn it, Archie!" Jughead cursed at the television screen. "You've had a TV in your room since I can remember. How is it humanly possible for you to be this terrible at video games?"

"I am not that bad," Archie protested, running a hand through his shock of red hair in frustration. "I was right behind you!"

"Yeah, you're right. You standing around right behind me was a huge help," Jughead responded sardonically. He put his controller next to him on the air mattress and stretched. They had been at this for hours now. It was probably time for a break, but in truth, this _was_ the break. The break from his dad being in jail. The break finally solving Jason Blossom's murder. The break from not knowing where he would be living in a very short amount of time. He shook his head; when Archie had suggested a couple hours of video games, he had agreed enthusiastically.

"And in my defense, having a cast doesn't make gaming particularly easy," Archie said, holding up his broken hand and interrupting the brooding teen's thoughts. "Anyway, I should get going. I told Veronica I would take her to Pop's for dinner tonight."

"Did you now?" Jughead asked, raising his eyebrows. He hadn't heard anything from either involved party regarding Veronica's sleep over the day after Jughead's relatively disastrous birthday.

"Yeah," Archie replied, sheepishly avoiding any eye contact. He shrugged on her Letterman jacket. "You doing anything with your lady tonight?"

"I don't know," Jughead said thoughtfully. "I haven't heard from her, let me see what she's up to." He pulled out his phone, and upon activating the screen, he saw he had missed a text from her two hours ago that simply read 'Hi, we need to talk whenever you have a chance'. "Uh oh," he groaned.

Walking out of the bedroom door, Archie froze. "What's wrong?"

"You have more experience with females than I do," Jughead said grimly. "What does it mean when they say 'We need to talk'?"

"Oh man, what did you do?" Archie asked, his eyes wide.

"I didn't do anything!"

"Dude, you must have done _something_ , needing to talk is never good."

"Great," Jughead said, racking his brain. He waved an arm at his roommate. "You go ahead, leave me to my impending doom."

"Good luck, man," Archie said sympathetically. With that, he trotted down the stairs and out the front door, leaving Jughead's mind swirling with what his girlfriend could possibly want to discuss.

Laying down on his air mattress, he sighed. He ran over their previous conversations, nothing in particular stood out. They had hung out last night at Pop's, and discussed finally finishing the case. He had walked her home, kissing her goodbye and walking next door to the Andrews' residence. It was an ordinary day; nothing stood out at all.

"Well," he mumbled to himself, "let's get whatever this is over with."

Climbing up the ladder to Betty's bedroom, Archie's words rang through his head. _Dude, you must have done something. Needing to talk is never good_. He was about to get dumped, and he should have seen this coming. His girlfriend was a perfectionist. She was from the right side of the tracks, he was from the wrong. Her parents had their issues, but not to the scale of his parents. She was a cheerleader; he was a recluse. He should have thought about this before; now that the case was over, what could they possibly have in common? Now that the case was over, so were they.

The window at the top of the ladder was open and he crawled through, finding Betty typing away at her desk, probably writing an essay that was due in six months.

"Hey," he said, climbing through his personal door. He sat on the edge of her bed. "Sorry I missed your text earlier, I didn't feel my phone vibrate."

"No worries," Betty said, giving a meek smile. She averted his gaze and looked nervous, tapping her pencil against her desk.

Jughead swallowed. Every ounce of his girlfriend's body language pointed to a conclusion that he didn't find particularly desirable.

"So, what's going on?" Jughead asked, feeling his throat constrict slightly.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," Betty began, putting the pencil down. She took to twirling the ends of her ponytail instead.

"You tend to do that, yes," Jughead replied.

"I do," Betty laughed nervously. She began talking a mile per minute. "So anyway, I think it's time we had a talk that I've been avoiding, but I know it's been coming, and I just can't avoid it any longer because it's driving me insane, and-"

"Betty, I really need you to spit this out," Jughead interjected. His heart was racing as fast as Betty was speaking, and due to all the recent stress he had undergone, he could not handle a minute more of feeling this way.

"I think it's time that we have sex," Betty blurted out, blushing a deep crimson and laying her green eyes on anything that wasn't Jughead.

Jughead's world stopped spinning, and his mind went completely blank. "What?" he asked, not bothering to close his jaw.

"I think it's time we have sex," Betty replied, her tone a little more confident. Jughead did notice, however, that her hands were shaking.

"You've been planning and organizing a moment that is supposed to be spontaneous and extemporaneous. That's very Betty of you," Jughead said, recovering slightly from the bombshell that his girlfriend had just dropped on him.

Betty stood up, her hands knotted in front of her, and walked over to sit next to Jughead on the edge of her bed.

"Everything I've read and heard has said that if you feel strongly enough about the person and comfortable enough with them, that it's okay, and-"

"Betty," Jughead interrupted, laughing slightly, "believe me, you don't have to give me any supporting evidence here, if you're comfortable with it, I'm comfortable with it."

"Well, I have some stipulations," Betty admitted, finally making eye contact with her boyfriend.

"Somehow I thought you might," Jughead replied, giving a crooked smile.

"I'm just really scared of ending up like Polly," Betty began, her words beginning to rush together again, "but I'm even more scared of my mom and asking her to help me get on birth control."

"So I'll get some condoms," Jughead shrugged. He took his girlfriend's trembling hands in his own. Per usual, they were cold to the touch. "That's no problem. I'm not a fan of the idea of smaller versions of us running around either."

Betty nodded and exhaled. She resumed her business-like persona. "And I would like for you to get tested for any STDs beforehand too, just in case there is some sort of accident."

Jughead laughed out loud. She really _had_ been giving this a ridiculous amount of thought. "Betty, I'm willing to do whatever you want me to do, but I'm telling you right now, I don't have any STDs."

"You've always used protection in the past?" Betty asked, once again averting Jughead's gaze.

"No," Jughead responded truthfully, "but that's because I haven't had sex."

Betty's face whipped up to Jughead's. "Never?"

"No," Jughead said, shaking his head. "I'm flattered that you think I might have gotten some form of action before you came along, but I assure you, I haven't. Probably a side effect of having a ginger Adonis as my best friend, but it never bothered me. I've honestly never really been interested in anything more with anyone except you."

Betty nodded slowly, absorbing the information Jughead had just bestowed on her. She smiled at her boyfriend. "That makes me happy."

"Well I'm happy that makes you happy," Jughead said. He wrapped his arm around his girlfriend, rubbing small circles on her opposite shoulder. Betty nestled her head into his chest and he kissed the top of her head. "When you said you needed to talk, I thought you were breaking up with me."

Betty bolted upright. "What? Why would I do that?" she asked, her green eyes wide.

"I don't know," Jughead said, cocking his head to the side. "You know I expect the worst out of every situation."

"Well, Jughead Jones, you'll be happy to know I have zero intention of ever breaking up with you," Betty said, giving a shy smile. "I like you too much." She paused, blushing again. "In fact, I think I more than like you."

Jughead's stomach lurched in an unfamiliar, joyful manner. "Betty Cooper, are you trying to tell me you love me?"

"I think that may be what I'm trying to say," Betty admitted. She looked nervous.

"Well I think I might more than like you too," Jughead said, leaning into kiss his girlfriend. This was, hands down, one of the best talks he had ever had.

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


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